


I've Seen How You Shine

by bertie456 (bertee)



Series: Bones: You're Lovely to Me [5]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-01
Updated: 2008-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-27 20:13:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/bertie456





	I've Seen How You Shine

"Twelve green bottles standing on the wall, twelve green bottles standing on the wall, and if one green bottle should accident'ly fall, there'd be-"

Glancing in the rearview mirror, Booth smiled to himself when he saw his son counting quietly on his fingers as he tried to work out what number he'd be left with should one green bottle take an unfortunate tumble.

"Eleven green bottles standing on the wall!" Parker sang triumphantly, before continuing unabated, "Eleven green bottles standing on the wall, and if one..."

Hearing the song start up again, Booth promptly zoned out. Parker had recently been taught the green bottle song at school, as well as the numbers from one to twenty, and the combination of these two had provided hours of endless amusement for the five-year-old. He was now into his third rendition of the day, having sung it once over breakfast and provided an encore on the way to church, and had now obviously decided that his dad needed to hear it again as they headed out to lunch.

However, Booth's fatherly enthusiasm was now waning, to the extent that he was imagining the green bottles lined up on a wall as he took carefully aimed shots at each of them. Hearing silence descend over the car again as Parker calculating which number came before nine, he decided to seize the opportunity, asking hopefully, "You do anything fun at Sunday School this morning?"

The ploy worked, and Parker nodded enthusiastically, his legs swinging in his child-seat as he answered, "Yeah! The teacher taught us about Noses!"

Puzzled by his answer, Booth tried quickly to recall a Bible story about noses, before working out that "Noses" was a five-year-old's amalgamation of "Noah" and "Moses." Smiling, he asked curiously, "This Noses, did he build an ark or did he lead the people out of Egypt?"

"Daddy..." his son chided pityingly. "It was Moah who built an ark. Noses went up a mountain and got some tables."

Looking at him in the mirror, Booth corrected gently, "Moses, Parker. _Moses_ went up the mountain to get some _tablets_."

The little boy's eyes widened and he asked, sympathetically, "Why did Moses need tablets? Did he have a sore tummy? 'Cause Mommy has that and she said it hurts so she takes tablets to make it better."

Booth's mind was filled with an image of Moses with menstrual cramps and he explained, "No, Moses' tummy was just fine. The tablets were what the Ten Commandments were written on."

Parker's face lit up in remembrance. "That's what we learned about today! The Ten Codamnments!"

"Can you remember what the Ten Commandments are?" he asked encouragingly, subtly stressing the correct pronunciation of the word "Commandments."

His son nodded confidently and began, "There were a whole bunch about God, saying that you have to be extra nice to him because there's only one of him."

 _Thou shalt not worship false idols, thou shalt not take the Lord's name in vain, thou shalt not worship any other gods than me,_ Booth mentally recited, translating his son's simplifications into the Biblical instructions he himself had been taught as a child.

"Then there's one saying that you have to rest and go to church on a Sunday, because God needs a nap too," Parker informed him.

 _Thou shalt keep the Sabbath holy,_ Booth thought, picturing God taking a nap on a cloud somewhere. "Can you remember any more?"

"Don't lie, don't steal and don't want what your neighbor's got," he counted off on his fingers before looking over at his father. "I don't want what Tommy's got, Daddy. My slide's way bigger than his."

"I think it means people in general, kiddo," his father said, carefully. "You should just be happy with what you've got." Remembering the other danger involved, he added, "But you shouldn't show off about it either."

Parker nodded. "Okay, Daddy." He looked down at his fingers. "Did I get them all yet?"

"Three more," Booth prompted, quietly impressed by his son's memory. "But if you give up, I can help you out."

Biting his lip hard in concentration, Parker thought hard, unwilling to admit defeat. Inspiration suddenly struck. "Oh, be nice to your mommy and daddy!"

Booth glanced behind him as he drove, saying teasingly, "Yeah, and that includes going to brush your teeth when we tell you to."

Parker smiled guiltily, but made no promises, instead going on to the next commandment, "God also says not to kill." He contemplated for a moment, before adding, "But Miss Mitchell said that I wouldn't go to Hell for hitting a fly with my shoe yesterday, so that's okay."

Booth swallowed hard, trying to keep a smile on his face despite knowing he'd done far worse in his time that hit a fly with a shoe. Deciding that Parker didn't need to know that his dad's place in Heaven wasn't so guaranteed, he asked quietly, lost in thought, "And the last one?"

Oblivious to his father's inner turmoil, the child pondered further, before guessing, "Don't be an adult?"

Too late, Booth realised exactly what the last commandment was and that he really didn't want to have to explain it to his five-year-old son. Taking a deep breath, he tried to phrase it in the most child-friendly way possible, "The last commandment says not to commit adultery." Pre-empting Parker's question, he continued, "You don't have to worry about this one till you're older, but it means that when you get married, you should always love your wife." _And not sleep around,_ his mind finished pointedly.

Thankfully, Parker didn't press any further about the meaning of adultery, instead choosing that moment to announce, "I'm getting married."

It was all Booth could do to keep the car on the road as he asked with incredulous amusement, "Married? Who are you getting married to?"

"My girlfriend," the boy answered simply, before correcting himself, "Well, one of my girlfriends."

"One of your girlfriends?" he repeated, still slightly stunned. "How many girlfriends do you have?"

Parker counted carefully on his fingers before stating matter-of-factly, "Four."

Booth's mouth fell open, but he felt a small, and possibly immoral, surge of fatherly pride at his son's answer. Before he could form a reply, the little boy continued, "There's Jess and Charlotte at school, and Hannah at swimming, and Emma at church. She's really pretty and she said we're going to get married."

Looking in the mirror, Booth saw that his son was now smiling happily, clearly excited about the prospect of marrying the "really pretty" Emma. Not wanting to crush his dreams but being unwilling to encourage him in this respect, Booth decided on a middle ground and said casually, "You know, Parker, when you get married, you're going to have to kiss your wife."

Parker was evidently aghast at this news. His eyes widened as he said, terrified, "But I don't want to get cooties."

Smirking to himself, Booth said helpfully, "Well, you don't have to get married just yet. Maybe wait till you're a bit older." Glancing back, he saw that Parker seemed content with this solution to avoid the dreaded cooties.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, bub?" his father replied, smiling at the little boy's tendency to make his name a question whenever he wanted to talk.

"Is that why you and Mommy didn't get married?" he asked innocently. "Because of the cooties?"

Booth thought briefly of the amount of cooties involved in the child's conception, before returning his attention to the more important question his son had asked, one which he'd hoped Rebecca would've been the one to answer. However, he'd never been one to back away from anything as far as his son was concerned, and so he quickly considered the best way to tell him the answer.

Speaking sincerely, he met Parker's expectant gaze in the rearview mirror, "It wasn't because of the cooties, Parker. When two people get married, they have to love each other very much and want to spend the rest of their lives together. Me and your mom, we loved each other a lot, and we still do, but we didn't want to spend our whole lives together. And that doesn't mean that we love you any less than parents who are married - it's just how things worked out."

He looked nervously at his son, praying he'd understand, and felt relief surge through him as Parker nodded thoughtfully, before saying with a smile, "I like it this way. It means I get two houses and two bedrooms and two sets of toys."

Booth returned the smile, knowing that the topic would arise again when he was older, but currently thankful for his son's optimistic nature and overriding love of toys.

As the car reached the turning for the Jeffersonian, he said cheerfully, "I just need to make a quick stop here to pick up some papers, alright, buddy? Then we can go get you something to eat."

"Can I have a burger?" Parker asked hopefully.

"And fries," Booth added, his grin widening when he heard the cheer from the backseat.

Parking his car in the middle of a No Parking zone by the door, he got out and quickly unfastened the now ravenous child from his car seat before rummaging in the trunk for a spare tie. Finding a bright red one, he crouched by his son, holding his shoulders to prevent him running straight into the lab.

"Listen, Parker, there's loads of stuff in here that's for only for grown-ups to see, okay? Now, you can either be a really good boy and keep your eyes closed till we reach Dr Brennan's office, or..." He held up the tie. "I can put this over your eyes so you won't be tempted to peek. Which one would you prefer?"

There was really no need to ask, since the boy's eyes lit up in excitement when he saw the tie. "Is it like Blind Man's Bluff? 'Cause we played that at school and I was really good at it and catched loads of people."

"Yeah, it's kind of like that," Booth offered with a encouraging nod. "Only you don't have to catch anyone; you just have to find your way to Dr Brennan's office."

"Can I catch _her_?" he asked, brown eyes full of anticipation.

"It's Sunday, bub; she probably won't be there." Parker's face fell and Booth quickly added, "But you can catch her if she is there."

Seemingly pacified, Parker turned around and Booth tied the red tie loosely over his eyes, glad that his son was enjoying the "not letting the dead bodies scar you for life" game. When the blindfold was firmly in place, he took him by the hand, leading him carefully to the door while Parker giggled uncontrollably at the new game.

Despite Booth's earlier assertation that Brennan wouldn't be in the lab on Sunday, Temperance was currently sitting at her desk, filling in the records for the three John Does she'd managed to identify in that time that Booth and his son had spent at church. Except for her, the lab was completely deserted, with all the rest of the squints using the weekend to relax, not to pore over more bodies than they already encountered in a working week.

It was for this reason that Temperance was more than a little surprised to see her partner appear at her door, calling instructions to a blindfolded and laughing five-year-old.

"Forward, forward... Now left a little." There was a pause. "No, your other left, Parker." There was a giggle. "Forward, forward, left a little more..." Brennan sat in bewildered silence as Booth guided his son around her desk. "Forward again. Once more. And... now."

On Booth's command, Parker lunged forward, grabbing Brennan's legs with a victorious shout, "Got you!"

Panicked by the situation, Temperance looked up at her partner, unsure of what to do with the small child who was now clutching her calves. Smirking slightly at her reaction, Booth quickly moved over to Parker, slipping his tie off his head and saying enthusiastically, "Nice job, kiddo."

Parker beamed. "I catched her!"

"Caught," Brennan corrected instinctively as Booth hoisted Parker into his arms. Father and son shared a knowing glance before Booth turned his attention back to his partner.

"Why are you working, Bones? It's Sunday, you should be having the day off."

"It's nap day," Parker chimed in knowledgeably.

Addressing Booth, she stated, "I don't need a day off, and I think I'm a little old for naps."

Answering before his father, the little boy said firmly, "God's napping."

Seeing the expression on Brennan's face at this statement, Booth quickly changed the subject before his partner started a religious debate with a five-year-old, "You got the Milman case file there, Bones? I'm supposed to present it to the DA first thing tomorrow, so I need to look over it tonight."

Momentarily distracted from the possible existence of God, Brennan quickly retrieved the file, handing it to Booth's free hand. "Was that everything?"

He tucked the file under his arm with a nod, "Yep, that's everything." Shifting Parker's weight to a more comfortable position, he flashed her a hopeful smile, "You know, Bones, you are allowed to have the occasion day off. Do something fun; read a book, do a jigsaw, buy a TV and watch it..."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, Booth."

"You sure?" he asked, concern in his eyes. "You could always come with-"

His offer was interrupted as Parker took an overexaggerated sniff of Brennan's office, before declaring, "It doesn't smell as icky in here."

Confused, she looked to Booth for an explanation and he dutifully elaborated, "When we came in, Parker thought the rest of the lab smelled like burned lunch meat, but it really doesn't smell so bad in here."

Fully aware that the smell was from a burned body that had come in earlier that morning, Brennan quickly realised that Parker had been wearing Booth's tie over his eyes to protect at least one of his senses from being exposed to the remains that were lying on the tables in the lab. Unfortunately, nothing could be done about the smell.

Turning to the little boy, who was now taking deep breaths of the non-stinky air, she explained, "My friend has some scented oils in her office, so I borrowed one to cover up the smell in here." She pointed to her coffee table. "It's in the green bottle on there."

Booth's eyes widened in horror and he shook his head at her desperately, but it was too late, as Parker had already launched into song.

"Twenty green bottles standing on the wall, twenty green bottles standing on the wall, and if one green bottle should accident'ly fall, there'd be-"

Taking advantage of Parker's math-based pause, Booth said quickly, "See you tomorrow, Bones. Don't work too hard, alright?"

"Nineteen green bottles standing on the wall, nineteen green bottles..."

Temperance just nodded in return, watching as Booth carefully slipped the tie over his son's eyes again before heading back out of the lab, file in one arm and singing child in the other. Oblivious as she was to most social indicators, Brennan knew the human body, and couldn't help but notice the lightness of Booth's step, despite carrying a fairly substantial five-year-old. She'd seen him walk heavily when he was unhappy, quickly when he was excited and stiffly when he was angry, but the only time she'd seen him with the proverbial spring in his step was when he was with his son.

Parker's joyous, if not completely tuneful, singing filled the lab, and an involuntary smile spread across Brennan's face as she saw Booth bounce his son in his arms in time to the song. They headed out of the door, and she watched as Parker held his own nose with one hand and his father's with the other, to protect them both against the smell.

Turning back to her work as they left, it dawned on her for the first time that, as satisfying as he found his job, Booth's favorite role in life was always going to be that of a father. Contemplating this conclusion, as well as the small glimpse she'd just had of a functioning family unit, Temperance turned back to her file, humming under her breath,

"Ten green bottles standing on a wall..."


End file.
